


blue hydrangeas and hummingbird hearts

by cefmoon



Category: Naruto
Genre: Anal Sex, Anbu Hatake Kakashi, Angst and Feels, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst with a sprinkle of fluff, Consensual Sex, Emotionally constipated Kakashi, Explicit Sexual Content, Heavy Angst, I'm Sorry, Inspired by Poetry, Inspired by Richard Siken, Like Too Many Feels, M/M, Or Is It?, Oral Sex, Pining, Pining Iruka, Traumatized Ninjas, Unhealthy Relationships, Unrequited Love, sex and feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-06
Updated: 2020-10-06
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:08:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26861887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cefmoon/pseuds/cefmoon
Summary: "Tell me you want this," Kakashi begs shakily, his hot breath falling against Iruka's parted, awaiting lips. "Tell me youneedthis."I want it all, Iruka wants to say,I want all of you to myself, forever."I want this," Iruka whispers, breath rushing out his lungs and making his head dizzy. "I want this so bad, Kakashi-san."
Relationships: Hatake Kakashi & Umino Iruka, Hatake Kakashi/Umino Iruka
Comments: 26
Kudos: 201





	blue hydrangeas and hummingbird hearts

**Author's Note:**

> hey there! someone sent me an ask on tumblr that was really valid and just wanted to clarify something really quick! this never took place in the canon timeline as i said in my previous note! neither kakashi or iruka are minors in this, i would never write explicit stuff about minors! so i wanted to edit this to make things clear! i'm really sorry if it made anyone feel confused/uncomfortable! now thank you for reading and enjoy💖

  
_" **I owe you,** says **Your shoes are filling with your own damn blood,  
you must want something, just tell me, and it's yours**.  
But I can't look at him, can hardly speak,  
I took the bullet for all the wrong reasons, I'd just as soon kill you myself, I say.  
You keep saying **I owe you, I owe...** but you say the same thing every time.  
Let's not talk about it, let's just not talk."_  


Iruka feels his arrival before actually seeing him.

It's hard to miss, honestly, and he knows the sensation so well that he doesn't need to even concentrate to catch it, not like he had to do at the beginning. After all, his presence is overwhelming; the mere tease of his powerful energy being near sends the brunet into a frenzy of desire and agitation.

Taking a silent and deep breath, he keeps himself together through the waves of anxiousness churning in his gut.

The man's chakra is _there_ , cold and dangerous, worming its way inside the small apartment and reaching toward him insistently as Iruka mourns the plans he knows he will not be following through now that _he_ is here. Hopefully, his friends won't be too mad.

There's a heavy silence in the living room as the air around him draws tight, but at this point, Iruka's used to it. He goes through the motions of this old mutilating dance like he was born for it. Stand up, walk to the window and pull it open, ignore the way he suddenly feels like he's dying and reach out tentatively with his chakra, gracious limbs hiding the slight tremble of his movements.

It's a welcome ritual of sorts, mixed with the only opportunity he gets to say no. And he _should_ say no. He should stay sitting down and ignore the other man's presence until he leaves, he should stop this ridiculous... thing that is going on between them. It's destructive and it always leaves Iruka aching for things he can't and will never have.

But he won't refuse. He knows. He's too weak to say no to him, and Hound knows, too.

So Iruka stands there, burying unsettled nerves under his thrumming skin, waiting the three whole seconds it takes until the stench of blood and death slips through the window and the ANBU appears in front of him, slim and lethal figure hovering over like a threatening promise of something he can't quite see but knows it's not good.

They don't speak. Iruka has learned a long time ago that any attempts of conversation in this stage of their custom are useless. So he just slowly takes one of the ANBU's hands between his own and carefully removes the glove that covers long pale fingers, immediately doing the same to the other one. The arm plates come next, the metallic clink is muted when Iruka carefully places them on the kotatsu. Hound still tenses up.

Iruka takes a deep breath before kneeling, his nimble shaky fingers undoing the wrappings around his ANBU'S firm thighs, his almond colored eyes meeting the empty dark holes of the ceramic dog mask above in a mix of weariness and forbidden desire. Electricity snaps down Iruka's spine, because although he can't see the man's face, he can feel the intense anticipation in their movements, a strong tension settling hotly and heavily inside his guts.

Hound's pale hand rises and Iruka's breath hitches. Time slows, dragging their dance to a detailed hyper-focused scene. This is the moment that determines how it's going to go. This is the step in which Iruka learns where Hound wants to take it. Not like it matters, for his ANBU could drag him to Hell by the hair and Iruka would make a home in the eternal flames as long as he's burning next to him.

Calloused and trembling touch comes to rest against the caramel skin of Iruka's cheek, a slender thumb catching on the corner of the brunet's plump lips. The rough palm of Hound's hand settles sharply under his chin, a silent ~~request~~ order. Iruka obeys, rising to his feet again, eyes never leaving the empty holes of his lover's disguise.

Iruka knows what's behind the cold ceramic. He knows there's a pair of mismatched eyes looking back at him with the same intensity of an electric summer thunderstorm, assessing his every movement like a predator waiting for the right moment to pounce on their prey. Iruka knows he shouldn't know, they could both be killed for it, but he does.

Iruka would know Kakashi anywhere.

Just by his smell of violence and hurt, just by the feeling of his calloused fingertips grazing fleetly against his arm, just by the way the hairs on the back of his neck stand up instantly at the ANBU's presence. Their bodies are attuned to each other, every breath and heartbeat synchronized on a perfectly choreographed and dangerous combination.

"Can I?" Iruka whispers, brushing the edge of the ANBU mask reverently.

Kakashi nods. Once. But then pushes his hand away and takes it off himself, slowly lowering his hand until the ceramic clinks against the wooden surface of the kotatsu. 

Iruka takes the man's face in, his heart speeding, shifting, transforming into a hummingbird trying to set free from the confinement of his ribcage at the sight. Kakashi's cloth mask is still in place, covering the lower half of his face, but Iruka can see the sharp outline of his jaw, the bulging of his lips, the upturned tip of his nose.

Kakashi is beautiful in a way Iruka admires. He's pale, but there's darkness under his skin, darkness that can't be described as anything else than death and guilt. He's tall and when he's not slouching, the expanse of his chest and back are intimidating, but he's fast as lightning, flexible and swift. Kakashi could snap Iruka's neck in three seconds, he could stick his hand through his chest and rip his heart out in ten. He could eat him up and melt him down into a puddle of white-hot pleasure in a little bit more than that.

That knowledge should scare him, it should make Iruka want to run away; Kakashi is a killer, Kakashi is a pawn and a faceless soldier. Kakashi has more blood on his hands than Iruka will ever see in his life. He is as beautiful as a graceful weapon, sharp edges, and deadly silver glint. And Iruka is mesmerized, enamored, hypnotized. Iruka holds him, his ANBU, his lover, close to his chest, ignoring the way blood keeps running down his hands from clutching too hard. 

He will stab himself as many times as it takes for Kakashi to remember how to be a person again, even if it's only for a few minutes.

It's not as selfless as it sounds.

Iruka can't save him, Iruka can't fix him, Iruka can't turn him into a socially adapted human being. He can't kiss the scars better and pray for the years of trauma and conditioning to go away. Kakashi is not a toy, he's not a project for him to work on and Iruka can't love his pain away. But he tries anyway, not because he's the hero, the underdog with the heart of gold, Iruka knows he isn't a recovery center for deeply traumatized child soldiers, but he does love Kakashi.

He loves his sharp edges and cold stares, he loves his rough hands and firm muscles, he loves the way Kakashi slams his body against his and consumes him whole until there's nothing left, just a mess of entangled exhausted limbs and fuzzy brains. Iruka loves the way Kakashi could kill him in a blink of an eye but chooses not to.

Iruka loves that Kakashi needs him. He loves that Kakashi trusts him to make him feel something other than remorse and grief. Iruka loves that Kakashi, in return, makes him feel useful and stable, a column to which he can lean his weight on.

Iruka loves Kakashi for all the wrong reasons. But he loves him nonetheless.

  
_"here we are at the place  
where I get to beg for it  
where I get to say **Please, for just one night, will you lay down next to me, we can leave our  
clothes on, we can stay all buttoned up?**  
or will I say  
**Roll over and let me fuck you till you puke, Henry, you owe me this much, you can indulge me  
this at least, can't you?"**_  


Kakashi hooks his finger under the edge of his mask and pulls it down, revealing the white expanse of unmarked skin. His mouth is set on a firm line and Iruka has to physically stop himself from throwing his weight on him and kiss the grim expression until it melts down. It won't. Not yet. So he stares at the beauty mark next to Kakashi's lips instead, and swallows unnecessary words down.

Without thinking, Iruka steps forward, his body drawing close to his lover's naturally. He only stops when they're almost nose to nose, Kakashi having to look down to his shorter frame to keep the intense connection between their eyes.

Time slows down, it melts and drips around them like thick honey, but it doesn't taste as pleasant as Iruka would want it to, (he's always been foolish like that). 

There's nothing sweet about them, there's no lightness or softness in their 'relationship'. Kakashi and Iruka don't fit like puzzle pieces, they aren't soulmates meant to be together; they're far from being perfect for each other. They're just two men in a sea of faceless soldiers devoted to violence and hatred who steal and kill for a country that doesn't give a fuck about their nightmares.

They're two lonely individuals, seeking for _something_ , perhaps comfort, perhaps sympathy, perhaps just a good fucking to take their minds off of things that drip crimson. (All of the above.)

It doesn't make Iruka love him any less. And it certainly doesn't stop him from pining for things he can't have either.

Because maybe in another life, in a universe in which Iruka is braver and Kakashi allows himself to love him back, maybe then they could escape together. They could run into the night and disappear from the clutches of the Leaf's unforgiving hands forever. They could find a shack somewhere far away, blend into some small, unknown village as civilians and teach their hands how to give life instead of taking it away. They could love each other forever, devote themselves to one another until the end of time.

See, he's always been foolish like this.

 _Fantasizing is useless,_ Iruka reminds himself, looking inside Kakashi's dark eye and drowning in the sorrow there. _This is what we are and this is what we have. We're both alive and together right now. Nothing else should matter._

And when their lips brush together, a touch so faint it could be a whisper, Iruka truly believes that, in that second of shared skin, nothing does.

"Tell me you want this," Kakashi begs shakily, his hot breath falling against Iruka's parted, awaiting lips. "Tell me you _need_ this."

It's cracking. The semblance of patience between their anticipating, sizzling blood. They'll be all over each other in a matter of seconds, like two forces of nature collapsing against the other, destroying whatever is in their path to get to the final line, the one where seconds turn into eternities and they have to run to catch up with their hummingbird hearts.

Then, Iruka will relax, his muscles will go lax and his brain will stay numb for a short exhilarating moment. 

Then, just then, Kakashi will finally smile.

Then, and only then, the emptiness that comes afterwards will be worth it.

  
_"but we both know how it goes. I say **I want you inside me**  
and you hold my head underwater, I say **I want you inside me**  
and you split me open with a knife"_.  


_I want it all_ , Iruka wants to say, _I want all of you to myself, forever_.

Instead, he swallows the words like acid, cringing at the way the sharp corners of the characters scratch all the way down his throat and catch in his lungs. Iruka won't say them out loud, because Kakashi doesn't want to hear them.

Kakashi doesn't want to know that Iruka's heart lies in his hands. Kakashi doesn't want the responsibilities that come from loving and being loved; he doesn't want to give his charred heart away to anyone, or at least not to Iruka. Kakashi just wants to be contained, to feel like he's not so alone anymore. And even though he wants more, Iruka will shut his mouth and play along.

"I want this," Iruka whispers, breath rushing out his lungs and making his head dizzy. "I want this so bad, Kakashi-san."

_Take all you want, all you need, leave me high and dry, I don't care anymore._

Kakashi is on him before he can blink. His body, powerful and solid, slams into Iruka's, tripping him backward until a strong hand catches him and holds him upright against all odds and trembling knees. Their lips meet, this time in full collision, opening against each other in a desperate and impossible attempt to fuse together.

Iruka gasps, his insides burning as his arms sneak around the man's torso and his hands clutch Kakashi's back like a lifeline, nails catching on the fabric of the tight undershirt of the ANBU uniform. He tries to push back, to regain some control and follow along with the sweeps of Kakashi's tongue against his own, but Kakashi growls, the vibrations of the low sound reverberating against Iruka's chest, so he gives in and lets himself be kissed.

Kakashi doesn't just kiss him, he _devours_ him. His lips press on him with too much and, at the same time, not enough force, no doubt bruising and biting, and Iruka surrenders himself to the overwhelming feelings that follow Kakashi's sinful mouth. His gut twists in pleasure and a moan bubbles up his throat when Kakashi uses his free hand to pull his hair out of the obstructing ponytail and his fingers bury themselves in Iruka's aching scalp, rubbing the skin there soothingly.

This is the part where it all makes sense. The steps to the dance are familiar but delightful nonetheless. Iruka will never get enough of Kakashi, no matter how many times they retrace the same choreography over and over again.

Their clothes start coming off, first Iruka's shirt, then Kakashi's, who doesn't waste a second to latch his hungry lips on the smooth skin of the brunet's neck and golden collarbones, nipping and licking like he wants to eat him alive. Iruka can't do anything else than dissolve into a mess of broken moans and embarrassing whines that he can't bring himself to care about over the heat pooling at the bottom of his navel.

His heart is beating so hard Iruka fears it's gonna break the bones of his ribs in an attempt to break free from his chest, and his skin feels like it's on fire, low simmering heat with tiny, hot flames licking at his fingertips and toes. He pulls and scratches at the expanse of Kakashi's scarred back, leaning his weight onto his firm chest because his knees are threatening to give up, and when Kakashi bites down the junction between his shoulder and neck, Iruka's toes curl into the tatami as he lets out a loud, breathy moan.

The pain of sharp canines digging into the meat of his shoulder hard enough to leave a bruise sends electric shivers down Iruka's spine and makes his swimming brain snap into action. He becomes suddenly aware of the hard, insistent press of Kakashi's erection against his hip, and that, combined with the other thousand sensations the man's making him feel, is enough to wake the hunger inside his veins.

Without a second thought, he puts his trembling fingers into action, unbuttoning the dark uniform trousers and pulling them down Kakashi's strong thighs. Iruka kneels again, this time eagerly, and blindly reaches for what he's starving for, his eyes never leaving Kakashi's heavy and half-lidded stare. Wrapping his fingers around the man's length, Iruka feels a small smile pulling at his lips when he hears Kakashi's breath hitch.

"This okay?" Iruka asks, breathless at the effort of containing himself from swallowing Kakashi down in one go.

Kakashi gives him a knowing look, and retraces his steps once again, putting a hand against Iruka's cheek and pulling at his bottom lip with his thumb. His face twists into a smug expression when a trail of Iruka's spit runs down that same finger and down his hand.

"Your pretty mouth is always so eager for me," Kakashi says instead, his deep voice making Iruka squirm.

Iruka bites his lip to stop himself from admitting that all of him is always eager for Kakashi. That he's always hungry for his ANBU. His cheeks flush and the hand wrapped around Kakashi's erection twitches, pulling a pleased hum out of the deep bottom of Kakashi's chest. Iruka arches his eyebrows impatiently, brushing his fingers back and forth over the silky skin nestling in his grasp.

"Please." Kakashi breathes, his thighs twitch, betraying his collected attitude.

Iruka wastes no time and leans forward, giving himself only a couple of seconds to admire Kakashi's pinkening length before wrapping his lips around the head and giving a tentative, teasing lick to the slit. Kakashi's hand drifts from his cheek to his loose hair, pulling it behind his ear and away from his face, making Iruka hum appreciatively and finally push his lips down Kakashi's growing erection.

Iruka takes Kakashi in his mouth adoringly, reverently, like he's something sacred, a prayer for which words don't exist. He licks and tastes him in earnest, condemning himself into an eternity of repentance for his greed. He doesn't care, he can't bring himself to care. He will pay for his sins eventually, but there will not be any drop of guilt in his actions. His heart soars unapologetic. There's nothing to be ashamed of when he's dragging Kakashi into the blinding pleasure of his deep desires.

Iruka closes his eyes instinctively, concentrating on the feeling of Kakashi, heavy and hard, expanding against his tongue. It's exhilarating, the way he can lose himself in the pleasure that is definitely not enough for him to feel satisfying, but it's totally worth it when he feels Kakashi tremble, chest heaving and skin flushed.

It makes him feel powerful, how he can make Kakashi turn into a panting mess, and Iruka can't help but drown in the feeling, swallowing down Kakashi's shaft until the tip hits the back of his throat, making him choke and gag around it, his eyes instantly filling up with tears. He doesn't relent though, because Kakashi moans and buries his fingers in Iruka's hair, gripping the strands tightly in his fist, and that's enough for him to push through it.

Iruka forces himself to breathe through his nose and sucks firmly, hollowing his cheeks and eagerly drinking in the drops of salty and thick nectar that leak from Kakashi's cock and slide down his throat.

" _Fuck, Iruka_." Kakashi breathes, low and rough.

Iruka hums again, the vibrations caressing Kakashi’s cock like warm purring. He opens his eyes and looks up at the man that towers over him, the boiling blood inside his veins rushing down the fervent need between his own legs at the sight. Kakashi stares right back, _both_ eyes half-lidded, following his movements.

Iruka shivers, the electrifying thrill of intimidation at being under the Sharingan, being _recorded_ by it, for Kakashi to revisit the memory whenever he wants, ~~being important enough for Kakashi to want to imprint the image into his memory forever~~. 

The pale, scarred hand buried his hair tightens, long fingers tangling in the strands and pulling, making Iruka whine at the delicious burn of his abused scalp. Kakashi grunts, more of a rumble than an actual sound, but Iruka relishes it. He relaxes his jaw, ignoring the ache throbbing in it already, and swipes his tongue along the underside of Kakashi’s shaft, catching on the ridge under the head, just the way he knows drives Kakashi crazy. Precum slides and sticks to the back of his mouth, thick like the sweet juice of ripe fruit, and Iruka swallows it down, eagerly, as if it tastes like it, too. It doesn’t, but he loves it anyway. 

Iruka burns bright and hot with it. No one gets Kakashi like this. Only him.

The possessive growl escapes from his chest without Iruka's consent as he sucks hard on Kakashi, head bobbing up and down on his cock, alternating between hollowing his cheeks and twisting his tongue around it. Kakashi's hips twitch, and Iruka sets himself on fire with the knowledge that Kakashi is desperately holding himself back from fucking his mouth until he comes hot and thick down his throat.

It doesn’t take long for him to figure out that that isn’t what Kakashi’s craving. Just as Iruka feels him shift completely still, the firm muscles of his navel tensing and stretching his milky scarred skin slick over them, Kakashi tugs at his hair upward, silently motioning for him to stand up.

“I wanna be inside you.” Kakashi whispers, cradling Iruka's face between his fingers, his words spilling against the brunet's mouth like liquid gold.

Iruka remembers nodding eagerly, because he wants it too, so bad his whole body aches with it, curling on itself and then stretching out, grabbing and pulling and burning, then stretching and aching all over again. 

They move, dance around each other, pushing, biting, kissing and undressing, a blur of motions and steps that make Iruka dizzy when he attempts to keep up. There's noise in his ears and he realizes too late that it's his own throat that is working around broken syllables that taste of something sweet with an edge of spice. He can't recall how or when they end up in his bed, but here they are, Kakashi's hands on his feverish skin everywhere, keeping him down and then turning him around, maneuvering Iruka's limbs that sing with pleasure when long fingers find their missing home inside his body.

His lungs are two busted balloons, unable to hold the stifling humid air that stills between them. Iruka sinks into the mattress, Kakashi's weight pinning him down against the sheets that smell like lavender but soon will stench of love. His body pulls taut, everything under his skin stretching hotly, so deliciously his eyes roll to the back of his head. 

"Ka-ka-shi-san," his heartbeats in his throat, under his ANBU's lips, and Iruka almost sobs when the digits inside of him twist against his core.

Kakashi smiles, sharp like a blade, proud like a warrior, but there are pools of need in his eyes, overflowing at the sight under his nose. He plays Iruka's body like an innate artist, hands familiar and heavy pulling the strings and following the cords that will make him sing songs of desire. 

Iruka cries out and shakes, his back arching at the pleasure that's licking against his most intimate parts and pooling at the bottom of his gut. It's too much and not enough at the same time, the tempo building and building but not getting any way closer to its peak. There's light behind his eyelids and pressure on his chest, the room pulsing around him, encompassing his hammering heart and ragged breaths. He might go blind, he might go deaf, he might just stop breathing if Kakashi stops, so he begs him not to, desperately mewling and writhing, hips twisting up and down, fucking himself against his lover's fingers. 

"Please, please, please," Iruka is chanting now, brain drowning in a sea of blinding lights and melting skin. 

"Tell me what you want and it's yours," Kakashi promises breathlessly against his jaw, catching his earlobe between his sharp teeth.

 _Liar_ , Iruka thinks ruefully between waves of pleasure, but gasps anyway. "I—I want you... inside."

He half-wishes Kakashi would just take him. He wants him to ruin his body, chase the pressing release hiding at the bottom of their spines and give up the act.  
He'd rather have the cold knowledge of being a simple lay than Kakashi doing what he does. Because Kakashi doesn't just take his hands away and sinks into his body to pound him into the mattress, wildly thrusting his hips and slamming himself inside until Iruka sees stars and howls like a wounded animal. No.

Kakashi takes his time instead. He slowly drags his fingers out, making Iruka squirm and whine at the sudden feeling of emptiness, then he kisses his lips again, soft and slow, his tongue tracing his bottom lip before slipping inside his mouth, all while positioning himself against Iruka's entrance, teasing enough to make the brunet's toes curl before steadily pushing in.  
His movements are almost tentative, no rush or snapping of hips, no urgency to get to the finish line they still ache for. Like he _cares_. 

Like he _loves_.

"Okay?" He asks, looking at him with eyes that taste of sugar.

It's okay, more than okay even, but it doesn't fail to make something constrict inside Iruka's chest. The stretch of Kakashi nestling inside has his lower-half stinging, his whole body feeling overheated, but that has nothing to do with the salt threatening to spill from Iruka's eyes, so he just closes them, suddenly self-conscious about the vulnerability that clouds his gaze.  
It's not enough for Kakashi. He won't move until Iruka nods, so he does that, too. 

When Kakashi finally starts rocking them, hips barely retracting before pushing in again, Iruka has to bite his lips to stop unwanted words from spilling out. His shaking arms find purchase around Kakashi's shoulders and he sinks his fingers in his hair, raking through it slowly as they move together in sync. It shouldn't feel this good, but it does. His nerve endings buzz, charged with hot electricity, and snap with every thrust of Kakashi's hips. The room fills with the music of their skin colliding and their uneven panting. It's so good. It's heaven and hell at the same time. 

The tears are stinging at the corner of his eyes again, more persistently now, but Iruka blinks them away every time. The way Kakashi moves, so deliberate and careful, so attentive and _loving_ makes his hungry heart soar, filling up and pumping eagerly against his ribs. Kakashi doesn't fuck him into oblivion, he doesn't push Iruka down, he doesn't reach inside him to wrestle his orgasm out of him. Kakashi kisses his lips and buries his nose in the crook of his neck, he moans and groans and sighs, he caresses his ribs and touches his thighs; Kakashi loves him for what feels like hours. He makes love to Iruka until the brunet feels like he can't breathe anymore, until every muscle of his body is relaxed and tight at the same time, his sun-kissed golden skin so sensitive he shakes under his lover's calloused fingertips and his mind dizzy with white pleasure, throat mumbling out mewling sounds he'll feel embarrassed about later.

  
_"I'll be your  
slaughterhouse, your killing floor, your morgue and final resting, walking around with this  
bullet inside me  
'cause I couldn't make you love me and I'm tired of pulling your teeth."_  


Iruka wishes it was real. He wishes and begs to hear words Kakashi won't say of feelings he won't let himself feel. He wants to push, to shove him into the light, to slap his face and grab his chin and force his eyes open while screaming to look at the beast in front of him and just _deal with it_. Because it'd be worth it. Because Iruka would be so good to him, so, _so_ , good to him. He would be everything Kakashi needed if he had to.

But he couldn't, no matter how much he wanted to. And so he does what he's best at. Iruka molds himself, shapes his corners and softens his curves, he transforms into whatever Kakashi needs him to be. A lover who doesn't ask for love, a pliable body that can turn into a home and an empty lot after that.

It's hard to see when the lines blur so easily, but Iruka knows better than to willingly blindfold himself. Kakashi loves his body tenderly, but it doesn't mean he lets his guard down. And Iruka feels the building pressure inside his lower back steadily increasing, making his limbs squirm and shake until he forgets about the nagging of the shattered pieces of his heart against his pierced lungs and all he can see is a night sky that is bright and makes sense and no sense at all at the same time. 

"You feel so good," Kakashi pants against his collarbone, his thrust turning more deep and erratic, one of his hands dipping between their bodies to stroke where Iruka aches the most. "You're so good to me... _Iruka_."

 _I could be better, I could be so much better_.

Iruka cries out until his throat is sore. Inside his navel, something is on fire and there's an explosion behind his eyelids that speaks of everything but violence. He's over the edge, his body going taut under the fire that licks furiously inside his flesh. 

He's ready to lose himself, his feet dangling in the air, suspended in time before the fall. When Kakashi raises his head to look into his eyes, Iruka knows he's done for.

"I've got you, baby, come on. I've got you." Kakashi is begging for something he's afraid to ask for, but Iruka gives it to him nonetheless. 

He will never be able to refuse and he doesn't want to, either. 

He lets himself be set on fire.

For a blissful moment, everything stills. Iruka is consumed, his soul leaves his body and he floats in a sky full of hot and bright promises. His heart runs away from him and Kakashi is quick to pluck it off the air like a flower from a tree, his battle-worn hands cradling it carefully before kissing a loving goodbye to it and placing it back behind the cage of Iruka's ribs, not giving him enough time to shake his head and ask him to keep it, because it's his anyway.

His body is still spasming when Iruka regains his eyes, and he thanks the Gods that it's just in time to see Kakashi fall too. 

It's such a glorious sight, watching the way Kakashi grows wings and becomes holy. Iruka cradles his face between his hands just to see if the gold in his skin is real —it is—, and his lips curve into a delighted smile when the man above, the man he loves, becomes alive under his fingers. 

Kakashi slams his body into Iruka's once, twice, thrice, and then he's spilling inside, doubling over like he's been punched on the gut and moaning a loud sound that should be something more than just an expression of pleasure. He hovers, the muscles in his arms looking strained from holding his weight, but his face is the complete opposite. His sharp jaw is slack, his eyes are heavy-lidded and there's no sorrow in them, just bright and warm constellations. 

When their gazes finally meet, Kakashi's chest is still heaving and Iruka's heart is still running. And when Kakashi rests his forehead against Iruka's and his bruised lips curve into a contented, satisfied smile, Iruka knows he will do this all over again the next time Kakashi comes by his window. ~~He hopes it's soon.~~

Iruka basks in the quietness between their bodies, time going by slowly like thick molasses dripping down the walls, but with an aching sense of longing knows that it'll all be over soon, the sour knowledge suddenly hovering over their heads like a dark cloud. 

Soon, Kakashi will sigh heavily against his lips and slowly pull out of his body, wincing apologetically at him. Iruka will slowly sit up on the bed and follow with his eyes Kakashi's retreat. He will watch him get dressed quickly and efficiently as a good soldier does, and then disappear into the bathroom before coming back clutching a wet washcloth for Iruka to clean himself with.  
Kakashi will then lean over and hesitate before softly —and a little clumsily— brushing the back of his knuckles against the skin of Iruka's scarred cheekbone. 

He won't meet his eye again. 

Iruka will watch Kakashi leave from the bed, squeezing the soiled sheets between his fingers in a desperate attempt to keep himself from following after him like a lost puppy and doing something hopelessly stupid.  
His heart will try to run, but Kakashi won't catch it off the air again.

Iruka will not cry nor sulk in the emptiness of his chest. He will simply bury himself under the blankets and close his eyes, succumbing to the slowly drifting attempts of his eyes rolling to the back of his head. He has learned to preserve the warmth in his chest until his ANBU comes back around again. 

In the meantime, a blue Hydrangea will be waiting for him to be discovered in the morning, peacefully perched on the living room window.

  
_"If you love me, Henry, you don't love me in a way I understand."_

_Wishbone by Richard Siken._  


**Author's Note:**

> Blue Hydrangeas: the Japanese tradition behind the blue hydrangea derives from the legendary apology of the emperor to his girlfriend. Whether you are in Japan or elsewhere in the world, the blue hydrangea symbolizes your gratitude and understanding for someone else and is always a thoughtful way of admitting that you’re sorry. 
> 
> in case you didn't catch it, the part where it says "like a prayer for which words don't exist" is a reference to another one of Siken's poems called "You Are Jeff". forgive me, i couldn't resist from indulging in some religious talk with homoerotic subtext, shoutout to my mom for sending me to catholic school, as you can imagine, that played off well for me.
> 
> i feel like i have awakened an angst-fueled monster with my last fic and now i can't stop myself (this is a genuine cry for help, i'm going mental).  
> the sex was so hard for me to write, it took me at least three days to complete the steamy parts (let the lesbian write mlm sex, she _obviously_ knows what she's doing) lol but seriously, i have never in my life written anything explicit like this and i’m pretty nervous to put it out there, so sorry if it sucks ass (please have in mind that this story was never about the sex tho, my intent was always to emphasize the connection and dynamic of their relationship while adapting it to the poem) nonetheless feel free to let me know what you think!  
> this was supposed to be only 3k words like the last one but it got away from me... oops. still, i think i'm pretty satisfied with the results. (i'm trying to stop writing so much in the notes because they're always so long but i feel like this is the only way i can connect with you so read my ramblings and hate me, it feeds my soul) 
> 
> as always i hope you enjoyed this ride! come yell at me (or cry with me) on [tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/wlwiruka) i’m friendly i swear <3


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